Perfect Strangers
by Cereza1
Summary: A slayer. A hunter. Trapped in an elevator. What fun could they get up to? (Rated M for some smut. Pretty tame stuff though.)


Sooooo...I couldn't sleep last night, even after being buried in my economics textbook until about 4am. So this happened. Sorry it's not the next chapter for Shadows of California, but I'm super stuck on that one right now.

This was a random plot bunny that hit my head and I couldn't ignore it. This was written for the birthday of one of my regular followers over on Twisting the Hellmouth. She's been patiently waiting for some Buffy/Dean loving, so here it is.

Truth be told, I wish I had more time to edit this and play with it, but I don't =( It's her birthday today so I wanted it up today. I might take it down one day and edit the hell out of it. Until then, I hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Perfect Strangers<strong>

She wasn't exactly sure what it was about the sound of heels clicking and clacking on hard flooring that grated on her nerves, but Buffy despised the sound. What nerve it hit she wasn't sure either, but it was a big one. Though at this moment she wasn't sure if she was more annoyed by the sound of her shoes or the tight skirt that constricted her to short, almost delicate, steps. Her button-up shirt made her feel stuffy, although she was sure that she didn't look it. There was something about having buttons and a collar that made her feel wrong in her outfit. Despite all that, Buffy looked damn good and she knew it, so she would put up with the stupid clicking sound, the button-up shirt, and the skirt that was practically cutting off circulation.

After all, it wasn't often that she got to dress up in her line of work. Slaying equalled pants, comfortable shirts, and sensible shoes. It didn't leave much room for fashion. It may be a short lived moment, but Buffy was ready to milk it for all it was worth. It was really the only thing she enjoyed about undercover work. How she had ended up getting stuck with the undercover part, she may never figure out. She had never been good at the whole "subtle" thing, and she knew next to nothing about office work. Even during her short lived run as a counsellor she had been pretty bad. Then again, the only other girl available for this case had been Faith. Faith may have been a worse choice for this job than Buffy was, so here she was, pretending to be some liaison for some company that she wasn't even sure she knew the name of, let alone what they did.

And she was late. Again. Shit.

Buffy picked up her pace, her heels clicking furiously as she jogged across the building's foyer as she clutched the folders she was towing closer to her chest. She was closing in on the elevator when Buffy heard her cellphone starting to ring in her purse. It was sure to be her supervisor, wondering where she was and furious that she was late again. Buffy shuffled her papers so that she could find her phone somewhere within the mess that she called a purse. Why couldn't she ever keep this thing organized? What did she even have in here! She was still frantically searching for her phone when she came crashing into something solid.

"Oof!"

The folders scattered to the marble flooring as she bounced back on her heels. Buffy's arms flailed out, desperately trying to maintain balance so she wouldn't end up on her ass on the ground. Just before she was to the point of no return, and already anticipating the pain of impact, two hands quickly clasped onto her arms and pulled her forwards. The strong hands held on tight until she was steadied on her feet.

"_Well hell-o nurse!"_ Dean thought to himself. This girl was a bombshell. When he first turned around to see who had run into him he had been completely ready to tear the guy a new one. One look at the blonde, though, had completely diffused the situation. The first thing he noticed was her beachy blonde hair that had been pulled tight into a bun on her head. There was something about that look that always got to him. He supposed it had something to do with the whole "school girl"/"naughty librarian" look. As his eyes trailed down he took note of how tiny and taut her form was. This was a girl that knew how to take care of herself, and she didn't hesitate to do so. Her pencil skirt clung tightly to her legs, accentuating the hourglass shape that she had quite nicely. Dean couldn't even get started on the heels she was wearing; they were killing him.

"You alright?" He asked.

Buffy looked up to meet the eyes of the person that she had just crashed into. As she did so a blush spread across her face quickly as the embarrassment set in. It had to be a hottie that she crashed into, didn't it? Why couldn't she ever embarrass herself with someone that she wouldn't even cast a second glance to?

As soon as she looked into his eyes he felt a slight lump in his throat. She had the most beautiful green eyes he had seen, and there was something so alluring about her lips that he couldn't help but stare. He knew she was hot, he could see that by looking at her body, but now seeing her face made him change his mind. She wasn't just hot. She was stunning. A total knock out. Damn.

Of course he was here on a case. Why couldn't he have met her in the bar last night? He wouldn't have hesitated to take her back to the motel in that situation. Right now, though, he had a job to do. Too bad.

"Uh, yeah. I think so," she stammered out, "I am so sorry! God I'm such a klutz. A-are you okay?"

The man laughed, "don't worry about it. I'm tougher than I look," he said with a wink.

Buffy caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall behind the man and her original panic returned. Her phone had stopped ringing by now, but that didn't change the fact that she was going to be in a world of trouble when she made it into the office.

"Oh god, I'm so late!"

Buffy dropped down to hastily collect the folders that had scattered on the ground.

"Here, let me help you," Dean offered, also bending down to pick up the folders.

"Oh you don't have to do that, really. This is totally my fault anyways," Buffy said, flustered.

Dean handed her the last couple of folders, "it's no trouble."

Buffy stood back up and smoothed out her skirt, "thank you. I am still so sorry."

His green eyes glistened as he smiled again, "hey, I feel like I should be thanking you. Not every day a pretty girl crashes into me."

Buffy blushed again, completely tongue tied.

He reached his hand out, "Rob. Rob Plant."

"Hi, I'm uh, Anne. Anne Mathers," she shook his hand.

Dean grinned, "nice to meet you, Anne."

"I'm uh, sorry. I really gotta go. I'm already so so late." She tried to hide her disappointment that they had to part so soon.

The man indicated the elevator, "going up?"

She nodded and entered the elevator as well. Of course he was going to the elevator too. That's where she had crashed right into him, after all. Buffy was still feeling rather mortified, but she figured a little more time to stare at him would make her feel a little better. As long as there wasn't any drool. That she couldn't promise herself. He was incredibly handsome with his bright green eyes and chiseled jaw line, and it was obvious that under that well-tailored suit was an equally chiseled body. Why did she always have to meet the best looking men while she was on a case?

They each pushed a button on the elevator and stood awkwardly in the small box, both absentmindedly bopping their head to whatever sound had been butchered into the muzak they could hear.

"So, do you work for Worley-Parsons?" Dean asked, breaking the silence.

'_Worley-Parsons! That was the name'_ she thought to herself. "Yup. Just started last week, I'm the new liaison for…the human resources department."

"And you're late already?" He teased.

Buffy furrowed her brow but changed the subject, "do you work for them too?"

Dean shook his head, "no, I'm actually with the FBI. Here looking into a case."

Buffy looked impressed, "well that's way better than being in human resources."

"Hey, I bet you do cool stuff too."

Buffy shot him an incredulous look, "not even you believe that."

"No, no I do not," Dean chuckled.

Suddenly the elevator jolted, throwing the both of them off balance slightly.

"Woah," Dean exclaimed, grabbing onto the railing behind him.

The lights started to flicker.

"Well that's not good," Buffy said, glancing to the elevator's control panel.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but before he could the elevator came to a halt, throwing both of them off balance once again. Buffy was pitched into the man, who grabbed onto her to steady her once more.

"Okay, even less than good," Buffy said, straightening herself up, but not before getting a good feel for the man's chest below his jacket. Yup, definitely a chiseled body under there. She fought hard not to melt right then and there.

Dean reached forwards and hit the door open button. Nothing happened. He pressed it again. Nothing happened. He pressed the button repeatedly, furiously. Still nothing happened.

"Fuck!" He called out.

"Tell me we're not stuck."

Dean glanced over at her to see a panicked expression on her face. He turned back to the panel and pressed the button with the phone symbol on it. A ringing sound filled the elevator briefly before the lights began to flicker again. This time the lights flickered off and remained that way, with no light coming from the control panel either. No sound came from the panel. Everything had gone black save for the small amount of light emanating from the emergency light, which was no larger than a couple of inches.

"Uh," Dean also started to panic, "hate to break it to ya…"

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to stave off the panic she could feel building deep within her gut. She realized quickly that there were other ways to contact help.

"Oo! Cellphone!" She dug her phone out of her purse. _'Sure, now I can find it,' _she thought to herself.

She unlocked the screen and her heart sunk. Her expression must have been sullen too, as the man she was with had a concerned look cross his face.

"What's wrong?"

"No service," she lamented.

Dean checked his phone too, only to find that he was out of service as well.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god…" Buffy paced back and forth, her hands tenting over her face.

"Hey, hey," Dean grabbed her wrists, "we'll be fine. They'll realize we're stuck in here and someone will come to get us out."

Buffy nodded her head, "okay. Ya. Ya, you're right."

"Of course I'm right," he grinned, "I'm always right."

Buffy looked around pensively, "so…now what?"

This was a situation that Buffy was not familiar with. She had never been trapped in an elevator before. Didn't this kind of thing only happen in the movies? Small spaces were never really an issue for her, but something about a small box that was hanging by a wire about seventeen floors up gave her the wiggins. Especially when there was nothing she could do to remedy this situation. All of her skills as Buffy Summers the high school delinquent and all her skills as Buffy the vampire Slayer were completely useless here. She was just grateful that she wasn't alone in this situation. Something about having an FBI agent stuck in here with her made her feel more at ease. It wasn't often that the presence of someone else made her feel any safer, but in a situation where she couldn't be the Slayer, it was comforting.

"I'm uh, not exactly sure. I've never been in this kinda situation before," Dean admitted.

"Guess we find a way to pass the time then?"

Dean shrugged, "unless you have some secret plan you haven't let me in on yet?"

Buffy slid down the back wall of the elevator, setting the folders to the side of her. She crossed her ankles over and leaned her head back against the wall.

"Good call," Dean said, joining her on the floor.

"How long do you think we'll be here?"

"Wish I knew. My partner was supposed to meet me here in a couple of hours. If no one else realizes what happened, he will."

"That's a relief. Kinda."

A silence started to hang in the air. Small talk had never been Buffy's strong suit, and it was even harder when she was pretending to be someone completely different than who she was. What did a human resources person even talk like? What did normal people do on the weekend? Was she supposed to ask him about the weather?

"So, uh. You from here?" He asked, breaking the silence awkwardly.

"Cleveland?" Buffy shook her head, "no. I'm from California originally."

"A Cali girl? Why would you choose here over California?"

"My work brought me here," she answered. It wasn't a complete lie at least. "What about you?"

Dean shook his head as well, "nah. I kinda travel all over the place. Feels like I don't really have a real hometown anymore."

"Oh," she frowned, "that's kinda sad."

He shrugged, "never bothered me."

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The first hour of being trapped went by rather quickly, much to both Dean and Buffy's joy. It was spent chatting and laughing which was nice. They talked about stories of when they grew up, what their hometown was like. Of course Buffy had to edit a lot of her history, but it was still nice to talk about the parts that had nothing to do with her being the Slayer. Hearing about the down home, apple pie life that this guy had enjoyed growing up almost made her jealous. She would have been jealous if it hadn't made her feel so warm and fuzzy inside. It was that kind of life that Slayer's fought to protect. He got to live the life she wanted everyone to have, without the taint of the supernatural world. Despite being total strangers, the two of them were able to hold their conversation well, which was a relief. This whole situation could have been about a thousand times worse if she had been trapped alone. Or worse, with some total creep.

Tired of sitting in one place, Buffy pulled herself up to her feet and began to pace the small space.

"Getting antsy?" He asked, remaining on the floor.

Buffy stretched her arms back and interlocked her fingers. She cracked her neck back and forth as she walked.

"You could say that. I don't think I've ever sat still this long."

"At least with long road trips I'm making some progress," Dean agreed.

"That's what I mean. We're just sitting here, useless. Helpless."

Buffy couldn't tell him this, but the hardest part about being stuck in one place like this wasn't the lack of mobility, nor was it the uncomfortable outfit she was trapped in. No, it was because there was nothing she could do to remedy the situation. Even if she was more than strong enough to pull those doors clean off their track.

Wait a minute.

"Wait. Rob. Do you think we could pry those doors open?"

A light bulb went on in Dean's head. Of course! The fact that he hadn't thought of that was astounding. How many times had he seen them do that in the movies? A sheepish expression crossed his face as the feeling of stupidity settled in.

"Why didn't I think of that?"

Dean pulled himself up to his feet and slid the suit jacket off. He handed it to the outstretched hands of the blonde with an appreciative grin. He took a minute to unbutton and roll his sleeves up, to free up his movement, before trying to pull the doors apart. She straightened the jacket out before hanging it gently on the corner of the railing.

Buffy watched as he readied himself to try and open the elevator doors. When she had first taken a good look at him, she had figured there was a fit body under that suit. While all she could see now was his bare forearms and a closer outline of his upper body, she felt vindicated in her assumption. Those arms looked strong and muscly, and even though she should be focused on getting out of this elevator all she could think about was being wrapped up in those arms. Or pinned up against the wall of the elevator, one arm around her waist…

She was snapped back to reality by the sound of the doors grinding against his force. A small gap was forming, but she could see the strain it was putting on him to get that far. Buffy knew that she could easily pry those doors apart, but how could she ever explain how a girl from human resources out strong-manned and FBI agent?

"Oh, Rob, be careful," she winced as the doors slammed shut nearly catching his fingers.

"I got this," he said, his voice strained.

Finally he managed to get himself in between the doors and push them far enough apart that they remained open even when he let go. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he stepped back to admire his work. He shot a triumphant look over to the blonde, only to find a dismayed look on her face.

"Anne?"

He looked back to the now open doors to see what she was looking at. Sure, the doors were open now, but a fat lot of good it did them. They were stuck in between floors, no more than a foot and a bit of the eighteenth floor at the top, and the top bit of the seventeenth floor at the bottom. There was no way that they would be able to open the external doors on either floor. All that work and no pay off.

Dean cursed, slumping back against the wall of the elevator.

"Sorry. I thought that would be more helpful," Buffy looked apologetically to the agent.

He shook his head, "not your fault. It was worth a try. Don't suppose you have another plan?"

"I'd suggest the trapdoor above us," Buffy said, pointing upwards.

"But those are locked from the other side," Dean finished for her. "Anything else?"

The look on Buffy's face suggested that no, she did not have another plan. Buffy sighed as she started to pace again. It was hardly helpful, but at this point she really wasn't sure what else to do. Her head was throbbing, partly from stress and partly from the stupid bun she had her hair pulled into. It was far too tight for her liking, but it made her look professional, so she had done it. She reached up and gently pulled the pins out of her hair, letting her blonde locks fall down over her shoulders. A quick shake of her head erased any lingering feeling of the straight-laced style.

Dean, who had been watching her pace was awestruck by this simple movement. He licked his lips as she shook her hair out, watching as the blonde tresses cascaded down over her shoulders. Why was something so simple, so innocent, end up looking so suggestive? Dean figured it had something to do with that whole school girl/librarian thing again, but it didn't really matter what it was. It was hot as hell, and he couldn't help but be mesmerized by it.

"What?" She asked, obviously catching him staring at her.

"Nothing. Just…uh…ya…nothing," he stammered, unable to think of a believable cover story.

"Riiiiight," she grinned. Maybe he'd be the one drooling?

Dean grinned sheepishly and broke his eye contact with her. Any other situation and Dean would have been making a move already, but now was not the time, and it certainly wasn't the place. Maybe once they were out of this predicament he'd get her number, offer to take her for a drink, but for now he'd keep it to himself. He rested his head back against the elevator wall and closed his eyes.

Buffy, who had more than enough of being trapped in this death-box, was sizing up the space between the roof of the elevator and the floor of the eighteenth floor. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like she may be able to fit through it. She was pretty tiny, and if nothing else, she was bendy too.

"Rob?"

Dean didn't stir.

"Rob. Hey," she tapped his leg with her foot.

'_Oh right, that's me,'_ he thought to himself. "Yeah?"

"Any chance you can open the gate up there?" She pointed up to the eighteenth floor.

He furrowed his brows, "maybe. Why?"

"If you can get it open, I might be small enough to squeeze through. I'd try myself but even in these stupid shoes I'm too short."

Dean pulled himself up off the floor again and looked up to the small space. He looked back to the blonde he was with and nodded. She did look small enough to fit.

"I'll give it a try," he agreed, gripping onto the bottom of the gate.

Dean was plenty tall, but even he was barely able to reach the gate that separated them from the external doors. He struggled with it for several minutes before giving up, gasping for breath as he wiped the sweat from his face yet again.

"No dice this time," he begrudgingly admitted.

"It's too high for you. You can't get a decent grip."

He nodded in agreement. If Sam were here he'd be able to reach just fine. Damn giant.

Buffy kicked her shoes off across the elevator, "what if you boost me up? I could try?"

"No offense, but it takes a lot of strength to open these things," he said, sizing her up again. Sure, she looked fit, but strong enough to pry those open? Doubtful.

"I'm stronger than I look. Let me at least try?"

"Alright," he ceded.

Dean placed his hands together below his knees so that she could step into them. As soon as he tried to lift her they realized that her attire would be their first real hurdle during this plan.

"My skirt's too tight," she pouted, "I can't keep my balance this way."

"Honey, I assure you, there is no such thing as too tight," he winked.

Buffy sighed, silently apologizing to her skirt for the blasphemy it was about to endure at her hands. She reached down to the seam on the side of her skirt and tore the threads apart, freeing up more movement in her skirt. She really liked that skirt, too. Damnit.

Dean, who had been unsure of her plan at first, couldn't help but stare as she tore the fabric from her leg. Even more of her muscular leg was revealed now, and it made Dean take even more notice to how attractive the blonde really was. Any self-control that he had been able to sustain up until now dissolved as quickly as her skirt had torn. He quickly closed the small space between the two of them, his hand reaching out to her face. Before she could react, before she probably even knew what was happening, he captured her lips with his. Dean kept waiting for the moment that she would pull away, he awaited the inevitable slap, but it never came.

Buffy sunk into his lips readily. She supposed that she should stop this. It wasn't like she knew this guy, and he really didn't know her either. This was so not like her. Buffy Summers wasn't spontaneous like this. God, this was something that Faith would do. Really though, what was the worst that could happen? He was human, as far as she could tell, so it wasn't like it would strip him of his soul. She was under no illusions about this, so it wasn't going to be a Parker-thing again. More than anything, Buffy could use this. It had been well over a year since she'd had any kind of fun like this. Rather than fighting the moment, Buffy opened the kiss further, allowing his tongue to come rushing in and wrestle with hers.

A moan escaped her lips as his hand found its way to her lower back, pulling her tighter against him. Dean took the moan as a sign that she wanted him to continue. He deepened the kiss as he gently walked her backwards so that she was up against the wall of the elevator. Buffy's hands reached up and found their way to being entangled in his hair, tugging gently on his locks. Dean uttered a slight moan, feeling a surge of electricity through his body. She pushed her body even closer to his as her hands left his hair and trailed down to his waist.

A slight tug was all that was needed to untuck Dean's shirt from his pants. Taking that as an invitation, and not to be outdone, Dean did the same to Buffy's shirt. As soon as her shirt was free from the waist of her skirt, Dean moved his hands below the fabric and roamed up her back before moving back downwards to play at the top of her skirt.

Suddenly she pushed him further from her, and he was afraid that she had finally realized what was happening. Damn. Much to his surprise, and joy, she used this space to grab onto his shirt and tugged the sides apart. Buttons flung every which way, but he couldn't care less at that moment, especially as she pushed the shirt down and off of his arms. Her hands grazed down his now bare chest, but before they could find their end target, Dean had pushed her back against the wall, his mouth searching hers out once more. Without their lips breaking contact, Dean reached down and started undoing the buttons that held her shirt closed. He had made his way through less than half when she reached down and pulled the shirt up over her head, also sending some of her buttons flying.

Dean took a moment to take the new view in before placing his lips to her neck, trailing kisses down past her collarbone, to her stomach, and back up again. When his lips met hers again she was quick to respond, a flush growing over her cheeks. His hands wrapped around to her back again, this time trailing up to the clasp of her bra. With a quick and skilled motion, Dean had it unhooked and tossed to some unknown corner of the small space. His lips left hers again as he shifted his attention to her newly revealed skin.

His tongue quickly flicked over the already hardening point on her breast, eliciting a breathy moan from Buffy. Her fingers once again curled into his hair as he began to softly suck on the tip, his other hand working to massage her other breast. Equal attention was paid to both as Buffy mewled in pleasure. Her hands pulled back from his hair again, this time seeking out his belt. She made short work of the buckle and tugged on his pants.

Dean was quick to oblige as he slid his pants down, kicking them out behind him. Her skirt followed suit quickly, also being kicked off to the side. Buffy wrapped her hand around the back of Dean's neck and pulled him back down towards her, crashing her lips back onto his. His hands found their place on her hips, holding strongly onto her. Buffy's free hand quickly roamed down to stroke his hardening member through the remaining fabric. He felt his knees buckle slightly as he wished for more contact. As though she sensed his thoughts, Buffy pulled down on his boxers, quickly placing her hand back on him.

As she stroked, Buffy placed kisses and gentle nips down his neck and chest. His hands came up from her hips to the back of her shoulders pulling her closer. Her hand broke contact to trail up and grip him in a similar location. Dean took his opportunity for his hands to roam south as well, pulling at the underwear she had as her last remaining amount of clothing. With that item easily discarded, Dean drew his fingers across her folds, finding her already dripping wet waiting for him. Two of his fingers plunged in, searching out for that spot that would drive her crazy. A quick buck of her hips told him he had found the spot.

Buffy threw her head back against the elevator wall, her hands grasping at anything they could. Just barely audible above her moans was the sound of the elevator doors slamming shut. Her hands moved from the wall to Dean's back, scratching as they traveled down to grab onto his hips. She gave a sharp pull, a silent signal that she wanted more.

"Are you sure?" Dean rasped, looking into her eyes.

Buffy nodded, biting her lower lip. "Condom?"

Dean went over to his suit jacket, rifled around in the inside pockets for a moment. In no time at all he returned, giving her the same look as before. He was checking again if she was okay with this. Her response was silent, but effective. Her arms wrapped around his neck again as she brought her lips to his again. With his arms strongly around her waist, Dean lifted her up and pushed her up against the elevator wall. Her legs instinctively came up to wrap around his waist, urging him on.

Thank god she had said yes, because Dean wasn't sure if he could have waited any longer. He plunged into her depths as far as he could. Both let out a moan and he rested his head against her chest. After a moment of letting her adjust to the feeling of having him inside of her, Dean began to pump at a rhythmic pace. She begged him for more. Faster. Harder. Outcries of pleasure came from both of them as each thrust brought Dean closer to the edge.

He realized that there was no way he was going to be able to let her finish first at this rate. He tried to pull back, to slow down, but her legs tightened on his waist, pulling him deeper into her.

"I'm gonna - " he gasped out, trying to control himself.

"God don't stop," she cried out.

Dean lost all control at the sound of her voice begging him. He thrusted powerfully into her at a feverish pace until he felt himself hit the point of no return. He grabbed onto her harder as he crashed over the edge and a moment of rapture coursed through his body. They stood for a moment, her legs still wrapped around him and head still thrown back against the wall. His head had sunk against her chest once more and his hands still clasped tightly on her hips.

He set her down gently, still holding tight in case her knees were as weak as his were now. He kissed her again before sinking down to his knees. His tongue flicked out, sliding across her folds. He heard a catch in her breath, urging him to continue. His tongue sought out the sensitive nub and caressed it gently. He lavished attention on her until her hips bucked and he felt her entire body shaking as pleasure crashed over her. He gently continued until she stopped shaking before he stood back up, his job complete.

"Oh god," she breathed, trying to regain her composure.

Dean grinned, self-satisfied by the look of ecstasy on her face.

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Buffy slipped her shirt back on, silently mourning the loss of the majority of her buttons. Was any part of her outfit meant to survive today? She watched as he pulled his shirt on, also inspecting his loss of buttons.

"Sorry," she said, the first to say anything.

Dean looked up at her with an incredulous look, "sorry? Don't be. That was…hot," he finished with a smile.

Buffy laughed, "oh good. 'Cause I wasn't really sorry. My shirt didn't fare much better."

She was glad that it wasn't awkward. She had really expected it to be, especially since they were still trapped. Which reminded her, they still needed to find a way out of here.

"Hey uh, I feel like I should come clean here," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

Buffy looked concerned, "about what?"

"Uhh…I'm not really an FBI agent…"

Buffy was relieved. She thought this was the moment he was going to admit he was married. That he was a demon. That he was actually dead. Not an agent? That she could deal with.

"Well if we're being honest," she started, "then I guess I should tell you I'm not really a human resources gal."

"Huh. We both lied. That's a first," Dean mused. "I'm not really Rob Plant. I'm Dean Winchester."

"Buffy Summers," she countered.

Dean chuckled, "well alrighty then. Question."

Buffy nodded, "shoot."

"When did the doors close?"

Buffy looked back towards the door, "oh. I think I hit the close-door button when…"

"Oh so it works then but not to open them before? Typical."

"Isn't it though?" She smirked.

"I gotta tell ya…I don't think I'll be able to open those doors again. I'm pretty tapped," Dean admitted.

Buffy smiled, "well, it's a good thing we're being honest then."

Buffy slipped her fingers into the small crack between the doors, angled herself to the side and pulled. The doors slammed open with a resounding clang. It looked like it took her no effort at all. Dean was astounded.

"What the – You could have saved me a lot of trouble, ya know?" Dean scowled slightly.

Buffy shrugged, "well, I didn't want to break cover."

"Cover?" He asked.

"It's a long story. One for later. Right now, we gotta get outta here. Claustrophobia is starting to set in here."

Dean nodded in agreement, "wanna boost? See if you can open the next door?"

"Please, but no distractions this time," she winked.

Dean stuck his tongue out at her before boosting her up to the gap. While she was able to open the doors easily, it was clear that there was no way she was fitting through the gap that resulted.

So much for that plan.

They both slumped back against the wall again. Another defeat.

Soon Dean could hear a familiar voice traveling through that small gap.

"Well he was supposed to be here a few hours ago. Are you sure you haven't seen him?"

"Sammy!?" Dean called, jumping to his feet.

"Dean?" Sam's voice called back, confused.

"Down below. Elevator."

A set of shoes approached, shuffled a couple times, and then the legs bent and a face appeared in the small gap.

"Dean? What are you doing in there?" Sam asked.

"Having a picnic. What do you think!?"

"Are you stuck?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "no, we're loving this. Could ya get us outta here?"

Sam looked over to the blonde that was standing with his brother, "uh hi there. Don't worry Miss, we're with the FBI and – "

"She knows we're not FBI, Sam. Just go get the maintenance crew or something," Dean interrupted.

Sam nodded, "right. I can do that. Just uh, stay there I guess?"

Dean gave a mocking laugh, "yeah, real funny chuckles. Just hurry up."

Sam gave a sly grin before standing up. He had notice the missing buttons on the pairs shirts, as well as the tussled hair they were sporting. Leave it to Dean to get stuck in an elevator during a case, and still get laid.

Buffy and Dean watched his shoes disappear and a feeling of relief settled over them. Someone finally knew they were stuck. They were going to be saved.

"So, if you're not FBI, what are you doing here?" Buffy finally asked.

"Uh, my brother and I are reporters and – "

"Reporters huh? That just happen to have anti-possession tattoos?"

She had noticed it during their escapade. At the time she had been curious, but nowhere near curious enough to stop and ask right there and then. Now though, she wanted an answer to her question. How could a civilian have a tattoo like that? It was one of those things you only found in ancient texts, ones that you wouldn't find by accident anywhere. Buffy had seen it in Giles' journal, and that had been the only place so far.

Dean was caught off guard, "how do you know about what those are?"

"I may know a thing or two about the supernatural," she smirked, "the real question is, how do you?"

Dean contemplated finding another lie, but at this point there really wasn't much he could say. If she knew what the tattoo was for, it was probably safe to tell her the truth.

"My brother and I are hunters. We hunt demons, vampires, things that go bump in the night."

He waited for whatever reaction she was going to give. He had seen them all by now, and nothing could catch him off guard. He'd been laughed at, called crazy, and slapped for lying. He had seen it all.

Except the reaction she gave. Which was none. She didn't even blink at it.

"Then I guess you know about the Slayer?"

Dean furrowed his brow, "Slayer? Like, the monster boogey-man?"

Buffy nodded, "that would be me."

"No way! A chick with superpowers? So why the human resources thing?"

"Something about this company raised a red flag with the Watchers. Something about hellhounds kicking around. I'm here to look into it. Why are you here?"

"Heard the company got way too successful way too fast back in the day. Smelled like a demon deal to us, and the contract is about to come due. Even if the guy's an idiot for making a deal, he doesn't deserve the hellhounds. We were hoping to stop it," Dean explained.

"So we're actually here for the same reason?" She questioned.

"Looks like. And instead of either of us being useful, we both end up stuck in an elevator."

Buffy sighed, "yup. Pretty proud moment for both of us here. Go us."

"Never thought I'd be part of the 'bumbling good-guys' category," Dean shook his head, laughing.

"And now we're the ones getting rescued," Buffy joined in the laughter.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna be telling anyone that part."

Buffy shook her head, "yeah, me either."

"Hey uh, when we get outta here, d'ya think you'd wanna get a drink or something?"

A devilish look crossed her face, "I dunno. Will it be as fun as this was?"


End file.
